


Once

by fireun



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireun/pseuds/fireun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never going to be anything permanent, this thing they had formed out of grounding touches and deep breaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once

It was never going to be anything permanent, this thing they had formed out of grounding touches and deep breaths. It was heavy with the sweat of exertion and the tacky discomfort of old blood, hitched with the winces of muscles worked so far past comfort as to be almost unresponsive as they worked each other out of clothes that smelled ever so slightly of gunpowder and other peoples’ cologne. 

It was never going to last, this need for touch that had nothing to do with pretending, stalking, killing. They left bruises and blood in their wake, scratching a new intent and intensity across each other’s body as they kissed the taste of the mission out of each other’s mouth.

Clint tasted like the little mints he favored during long stake outs. Natasha ran her tongue along the roof of his mouth, stealing some of the mint for herself, working away the flavor of cheap whiskey and stale breath.

Natasha was warm. Solid. Something to touch, to hold, to bring himself down when his head was still stuck up in his nest, his eyes still demanding he view the world from such a great distance. He ran his hands along her, reacquainting himself with touch, with taste, with being so close to another human.

With being vulnerable.

They both shivered and shuddered with a mix of arousal and revulsion that was purely their own- so desperate to feel normal, so terrified of being open. Wanting so much. Hating themselves for the wanting.

It was never going to last, this thing they had pulled kicking and screaming into existence. As soon as they stilled, sweat starting to cool on limbs now exhausted from an exertion that they could consider somewhat honest Clint would get antsy, uncomfortable and Natasha would slip and slither back into her carefully constructed persona. 

It would never last. But they needed each other so very desperately. And they would always be there, each waiting to catch the other as they fell.


End file.
